Monophobia
by Taisia Kuno
Summary: AU Monopohbia: fear of being alone. He had to create something of a life after all the death that surrounded him. So Dennis did what he could; followed the only ounce of life he knew around until they accepted him. Dennis post movie Plot subject to change
1. One Hand Behind My Back

Chapter 1

One Hand Behind My Back

I'd take a seizure to this any day of the week. A hundred seizures, back to back, myself covered in piss and puke before I'd take this. Pain is excruciating when you're lucid and when you can see your wound clearly. My hand, what do I compare it to? Hamburger? Nah, too cliché. I'd say it was more like skin and blood and bones poking out of skin producing blood. If I got out of this, which I doubted highly considering what I saw, that hand would be forever useless. Only God can fix shit like that. Useless appendage attached to a useless body being thrown around by ghosts. Jesus Christ at least I know how to go out with an interesting end! Who the hell else can say when they meet St. Peter, "Hey, I was torn apart by a ghost and his buddy ghost in one evening while trying to save some people? Cool right?" I bet even the Devil would be impressed, then pissed because I was toying around in his domain.

Arthur was watching this and I wanted to say something witty but my mouth was really dry. I thought first that I wanted something to drink but at the same time, I had a ton of wetness in my mouth that just wasn't right. Coppery and gross, like that one time I bit down on my cheek too hard or when I got hit with that baseball bat in gym. It was like those times, so how was it the same… Oh yeah. Blood in my mouth. Gross. It was dribbling out of my mouth and onto the glass floor into a pool so I figured this was about it right? Better say something cool before it all ends.

"Save… your kids-" and then I felt arms grabbing my stiff body. I had a hundred thoughts going through my mind because the arms made me see different than if it were a ghost. Ghosts just make me freak the fuck out but human contact gives me visions. I saw a big blue house, two stories but comfortable. A real house, not a damn glass one like this. I saw the Kriticos kids in their respectable rooms, emerging, coming to a dinner table. And holy jumping Jesus is that me? Me coming from a stove with a pan of God knows what but I'm sure it was tasty. Arthur patted my back, said thanks, and sat down with the rest of them. Breakfast time? A domestic breakfast with me as a chef and a family who I'm trying to save? Really? I can dig this.

"Dennis. Dennis wake up. Come on!" Hey Arthur you were just in my vision and you have a pretty nice house. Don't know if yellow is the best color for a kitchen but I can be a nit-picking bastard sometimes. None the less, Arthur was the arms grabbing me and pulling me. I can assume what happened from the glimpses I got from my glasses. The wall I had barricaded Arthur with was laying on the floor with a stunned Hammer and Juggernaut some feet away. Could he do that? I mean think about it, he was totally safe behind that wall of writing so why would he have pushed it in the direction of the assholes kicking my asshole in order to save my asshole? Profanity aside, that's all I could think of. I mean the ghosts had to abide by the laws written on the glass and the glass was a barrier; you push a barrier against a ghost, it must retreat. It could temporarily stun them enough to run but Arthur was hardly running right now. No, it was more like dragging my sorry corpse with some effort away from the beasts.

"Lemme go, you gotta go!" I wasn't coherent. Far fucking from it. Arthur kept pulling but the Juggernaut and Hammer recovered from the attack of glass and began their approach. I kind of wished Arthur wouldn't have me by the arms because I kept having flashes between watching the hyenas loom and the typical ghost seizures. It was such a painful combination right now I was lucky to stay awake. This flash though was kind of pleasant.

It was Bobby and I playing video games. Oh yeah, wildly amazing right but hey considering I was dying, this is pretty cool. I think we were playing Dead Space because Bobby still had that stupid obsession with death but at least it'd gotten tamed by video games. It was hard to play with one hand- oh god that's weird to see me with only one hand, the other amputated. I did ok though. I just had to maneuver the joystick with the remains of my wrist. Still really fucking weird. Arthur was on the couch behind us telling Bobby to head to bed. Narc.

"Hey you have school tomorrow."

"But Kathy got to sleep over at a friend's house!"

"She's also a freshman in college so she has an idea of what she can and can't do. Bed."

"Man!" Bobby was gone pretty quick. I got off the floor and sat next to Arthur who had an arm open toward me. Weird.

"Dennis you're going to have to work with me if you want to get out of this!" He let go of me and though I was tired and sore, I caught glimpse of the two ghosts again and yeah, it was time to move. Arthur helped me up and we ran. Well he ran and I hobbled. We reached the end of the corridor with no more happy glass to keep us safe but I was honestly hearing things that sounded like chanting so maybe my crazy mind was at its breaking point. It kept getting louder but so did the blood rushing to my head from the strenuous movement. I hit the wall and Arthur grabbed me, pulled me down and we huddled like cockroaches about to be steppe don by two huge fucking boots that just so happened to be pissed off. Fuck.

Flashing. Great timing. Sitting in a freaked out state and having an awesome seizure to boot.

"You know I appreciate you helping me out."

"Don't mention it. Free room and board? Hot damn Arthur."

Gloves help minimize the contact, the flashes. Arthur had a pair on as he rubbed my back. My back always hurts so I'm like a fucking dog when I can get a back rub. I cooked and cleaned and he paid me in back rubs, a room, and all the Italian cooking I could stomach.

"You're so easily pleased."

"Yeah well I'm a depraved mother-fucker."

"There's nothing wrong with that." He kissed the back of my head. Whoa. That was oddly homo yet slightly comforting? What the fuck were these flashes?

When I opened my eyes again I saw Juggernaut mere inches away reaching for me. I screamed and pulled into Arthur who kept holding me protectively. But loudly the chants continued and before they could reach us, the chanting I could almost recognized called them center. They dissipated to nothingness and I finally took a moment to realize that, though rare it was, my vision was wrong. I wasn't gonna die. I really wasn't. But I didn't think I could keep my eyes open much longer so I didn't. Sleep sounded really good right now and though Arthur kept slapping my face to keep me awake, I said fuck it and decided to let sleep take me for a ride.

~*~

"Dennis. Dennis Rafkin. Wake up. If you can hear me squeeze my hand."

"Don't touch me," I muttered but felt that the hand holding mine had rubber covering it so I didn't get a flash. That or maybe I was just too damn tired to handle a flash at all. I think the same person telling me to wake up was opening my eyes and shining a light in it. God if they were trying to help me they were doing a shitty job of it. Quit poking and prodding and just let me get some damn rest. Don't they say that sleep cures everything?

"Dennis, c'mon wake up we're going to the hospital." That was a sound I didn't mind hearing. Arthur's voice came in smooth and steady to my ears and of course I didn't mind when he was trying to wake me up. At least he wasn't jabbing his thumb into my damn temple to make sure I had some sort of nerve connection there still functioning. Not like these other assholes. I woke up sure enough and surrounding me were a bunch of paramedics and a very thankful yet exhausted family of Kriticos mixed in like a smattering of pepper. The maid was there too but she was a bit stark raving mad at the moment so I didn't pay much attention to her Ebonic ramblings, not trying to be racist or anything. I felt weird being the center of attention but when they lifted me up with the gurney and began to move me out of the house, I didn't care if I was stripped naked and paraded around town with music and balloons as long as I didn't have to see the glass walls ever again.

The air was really clean and cold. Not stagnant like in the house and not smelling like death and oil. That was a really fucked up smell. But this air smelled like pines and rain and shit I would wear it like cologne if I could. Bobby and Kathy were beside my gurney with blue blankets wrapped around their shoulders keeping them from shock while Arthur kept hold of my arm through its own coverings. He kept talking to me too.

"I saw her again you know. We all did. She wasn't in pain anymore. She was amazing, she was happy. I forgive you for all of this Dennis because she's at peace now. You just gotta stay with it until we get to the hospital." He kept on saying things like this and I understood a little of it, I think though it was aimed at me it was more of a general talk to keep him going. I felt that, that if he stopped talking all his reserve would go away and he didn't need that now. So when I could, I'd talk.

"Really? Forgiven? That's… pretty almighty of you." I wasn't trying to sound like a dick.

"Keep him talking."

"I can't be almighty. Just human. I can't hate you for doing what you didn't know." Arthur kept rubbing my arm through the blanket and I started to get more awake, more considerate of the world around me. Bobby was trailing behind so Kathy lifted him up on her back and moved more alongside me. They started talking too but it was so soft I couldn't hear. I felt bad not responding but what could I do when I couldn't hear? Arthur's voice was just louder than theirs.

"I wanted to be with people. I'm a freak. I just hate being alone." I started blubbering now, my eyes closed and getting teary. God, I am such a pussy. I mean this is a scene from a goddamn movie right? Big old strong guy gets his ass whipped and of course he starts having these revelations about life and of course the tougher, the stronger, and the more injured the fucker is, the harder he cries. And I was crying like when I was a baby. Just crying so damn hard, wanting nothing more to keep crying until I felt good again. And though this is one of those moments where I'm a total fucking pussy who would be ashamed and embarrassed of this later on, there was some truth to my rant. I think Arthur saw that and that's why he forgave me. I think that's why I was so easily forgiven.

Because, I really am a wretch and no one needed me to tell them that. They could see it and make their own deductions.

I kept crying until my chest hurt and before long, I was transferred from a moving hospital to a permanent hospital miles and miles away from the glass house. In a whirlwind of medical jargon and medical treatment, the Kriticos family was gone from my side but I wasn't ever alone because I was considered critical and a proper intensive care candidate. Emergency surgery on my hand, checked for a concussion and shock, tested for other broken bones and to no surprise, a dislocated shoulder and my collar bone shattered to pieces. In and out of surgery and in and out of consciousness. I still think it's funny how they beg you to stay awake only to medicate you off your ass later to muck around your insides. And to be honest, all things considered, my injuries weren't that bad. The worse of it was the amputation of my left hand and the resetting of my collar bone but other than that, I was just cut up and sore. About twenty hours after me leaving the glass hell hole, I was happily dazed in a sterile room flipping through the limited channels on the television elevated above me. Now, I'll admit, I was lonely but this gave me time to reflect and think about whatever came to mind.

For starters, shit. What the shit was all this? Why did my flash change itself like that? I mean it's happened before and it usually happens when there's a ton of people involved in the scenario. Think of it like this, the more human involvement you have in a situation with an either or outcome, the outcome can have more of a 50/50 chance of happening, in spite of my vision. It's happened. But this was different because it was only a few people and not a lot of human involvement to really alter the outcome. It's way more difficult for the outcome to change because of this. And it wasn't caused by the whole group, just Arthur. It was his script though, he was in charge. I just didn't think he'd have so much control.

And another thing! What the fuck were up with those flashes when I was getting mutilated? It was cool to have a place to live and like, hang out with the kids because they weren't that bad but what was up with the super creepy awkward closeness between Arthur and I? I mean that's just… that's some unexplained faggotry going on there. I think my flashes are just getting a little cryptic and possibly just plain old wrong. Granted it's never happened before but after everything I went through, who's to say it won't happen?

"Can we come in?" I stopped flipping and saw Arthur peek through the curtain along with Kathy and Bobby close to his side. I was still a little loopy from the drugs but I think I was with it enough to have company so I agreed and they came in, sporting pizza and soda. Best family ever.

"How you guys feeling?" I asked while sitting up. I didn't want them to see my stub of an arm yet so I covered it quickly under my blankets. As much as I loved the idea of company, I really just wanted to dig into that fucking pizza. Call me a pig but I hadn't eaten in a while and pizza just sounded so damn good. Bobby came and sat on my bed with two bottles of Coke in his hands, one for me and one for him.

"Dad had to get stitches! The doctors said I was the only one who wasn't hurt. Kathy's boobs had cuts so she had to have her boobs checked!" Bobby laughed out. Kathy was red and embarrassed, youthful and cute with a little brat of a brother and a father who tried to keep peace. And they still had a huge fucking pepperoni pizza hidden in that cardboard coffin of a pizza case. Oh yeah, my soda was already drank and gone so I was eyeing Arthur's. He got the idea and opened the box, handed over his drink, and asked Kathy and Bobby to stop bickering with one another and go find the vending machine. Nice to know that the life threatening event hadn't changed his fatherly way. The two left with a handful of ones and Kathy telling Bobby to not talk about her boobs ever again. Kids.

"I thought you'd want to eat without them staring."

"Staring at what?" I said when opening the box and showing my arm to the world. Even Arthur took a moment to stare at it and it sort of bothered me but I needed something to hold the box still while my hand worked with the lid. The stub didn't look too bad with the bandage on it so maybe later when it's no longer bandaged I'll just keep something over it. No way in hell would I get one of those fake fucking things. Those are ridiculous. Anyway, Arthur. Staring. Yeah it was weird. I had a slice in my hand while my other was reaching for a soda but never really getting it. I kept reaching for it and I realized when my arm bumped the bottle off the side and onto the floor. Shit. It started pouring all over the floor and Arthur like any decent father was quick to clean it up with some paper towels found above the sink in my room. It was then I realized I didn't have a hand anymore; that I had it tied behind my back permanently and I would always have to deal with just having my right hand. Again I was a pussy and again, I started bawling like that fucking infant denied milk and warmth. I wasn't loudly sobbing like I had before entering the ambulance but it was loud enough for Arthur to ignore the spilled soda on the floor and to come to my side. Jesus I wanted someone to touch me, put an arm around me even if I had the worst seizure of my goddamn life I just wanted some human contact.

Arthur put a blanket around my shoulder then put his arm around that blanket. He was catching on quick about layers between me and a person helps reduce the transmission of a flash and with the drugs in my system and the way I was feeling, anything that could get through was dulled. This was comfort in maybe not its purest form but it was so fucking close; there's something amazing about feeling fatherly love discharged onto another. I'm not his kid; I'm too damn old to be considered, but he had enough love and care in him to share it because being a dad does that to you I guess. I was just glad Kathy and Bobby weren't around to see this. I barely knew the kids but it still felt weird thinking that they would see me weak like this, like I was just another kid and not a grown man. Well, maybe I was just a goddamn kid but I would at least be at that stage of childhood where I want to be independent. I calmed down enough to finish the pizza I had and pick up another piece before the kids came back. Arthur was still next to me and seemed set on staying there even when the kids came back. Jesus it must have been at least ten o'clock the following day but they were awake and there, able to keep me company and feed me till I popped, and still seem to have a happy demeanor all in all. Adrenaline rushes mixed with pizza fuel and maybe they got a few hours of sleep before visiting me, when I was in surgery. Arthur must have warned them before they entered my room about my hand because they never stared or asked questions. Granted this could still happen but at least it wasn't right now. It was funny though; Bobby fell asleep at the foot of my bed and Kathy was gone shortly after in the reclining chair to my right. Arthur stayed awake, giving me someone to talk to until I could pass out myself. Who knew when that would be considering I already slept enough for a few days.

"How you feeling?" Arthur said, sipping a Coke. I shifted enough to get comfortable again but without waking Bobby. My ass was asleep and so was my head after another shot of painkiller by those ever so prompt nurses. Awake enough for conversation but not alive enough to be a barrel full of monkeys.

"Shitty. The food was awesome but I think it's fucking with my meds. That or I'm already sick of being here and am just sick. I dunno Arthur. I don't want to be here. Someone dies and I'm gonna feel it."

"The doctors said you can leave in a few days. They said you shouldn't be alone though because of your collar bone and your arm. It'll take some getting used to."

"You're telling me." I was a little pissy, sorry.

"Anyway… do you have anyone who can stay with you? Do you have anyone you can stay with?" It was sweet he was looking after me and my best interest but I'm a cynical bastard and kindness comes off as pity and help comes off as a loan my ass can't pay back.

"No. Not really Arthur."

"No one?"

"No one." I waited for him to pry into my life, about how I ditched my family after my dad died and his ghost made me flip out at his funeral or about how I'm a 27 year old virgin because I can't feel any woman's body without again, flipping out. Yeah sure, I'll spew on about those.

"I'm sure they have nurses who could come and help you." Thanks Arthur but now you're just sounding desperate.

"I don't want some nurse touching me and freaking out when I freak out. And it's just my hand being gone. It's not the hardest thing in the world. I can still walk, I can still move and I have one hand functioning," I emphasize this by waving my right hand at him, "so I don't need a babysitter."

"Your collar bone-"

"It's a bone. It'll heal. I broke my ankle once and kept walking on it for a week before I noticed. I'm ok." Ok that was a lie; I broke my ankle and walked on it for two days before it got swollen and gross and I had to go to the hospital. But anything to end this stream of conversation I wasn't interested in.

"Fine. If you're going to be stubborn, you can stay with us." I felt it was going to come down to that and though I kind of welcomed it, I hate being a burden. I really fucking hate relying on others. When you take care of yourself and always have, seeing other people trying to help you is foreign and frightening and maybe I was just a little scared of my visions right now. I saw the whole thing of me living with them and taking care of and being taken care of and sure that's fun but it's not my style. I don't need to be babysat.

"I'm not one of your kids Arthur. Thanks but no thanks."

"Dennis I'm not making this an option. You're staying with us, at least until you're healed. Deal with it." Damn it. The authority made me unable to decline and if I tried, I'd get the noose. You've two choices you convict, do community service or to the gallows with you. I just stared down death's face not even a day ago, I don't need this right now. And maybe a few weeks of babying and pampering might be nice and I would have all the company.

"Ok Arthur. Ok. You're the boss. Chill, I was going to go with you anyways. I don't have any food at my place anyway and since your uncle's a deadbeat, I have no money for food now. Heh, pun." I have a sick sense of humor sometimes. I'm a comedy genius. I'm also the world's best liar because I don't think he could read deeper that yeah I was broke and food probably wasn't the only thing that would be gone before all of this was over. I really wanted to go to my apartment before the shit hit the fan and grab some of my stuff before it was confiscated and used as property damage write offs. I didn't care for half of it but it was mostly my clothes, my books, and my journals I wanted to keep. Everything else could be used for collateral.

We went silent for a while, watching cartoons on TV and listening to the kids breath. A nurse came in to take my blood pressure and administer an antibiotic into my stomach. I didn't like those. She also changed my bandage on my arm and I got to see the remains of my wrist for the first time. There were stitches along the base of my wrist where my hand would have connected and, to say the least, it was a clean sever. It wasn't disfigured, gross, or oddly shaped but just a rounded off end where my hand would be. It was bruised a little from the attack but it still looked humane enough to be considered a part of me. I accepted it.

She left after a pretty new bandage was put on and after checking my shoulder's sling. That was the most painful part of my injury was the weird chest cast wrap they had me in to keep me from moving too much. I still had a hard time remembering I was injured because 1. High pain tolerance and 2. Morphine bitches so she said she might have to wrap my arm to my side to keep me from moving too much. I'd be practically a mummy which is cool since Halloween was pretty close. After she was gone, Arthur moved to a chair to my left and reclined it enough to stretch his legs. He seemed resistant to lean back and I remembered his stitches.

"How're you doing Arthur? Bobby said you had stitches."

"Yeah, about twenty in my back. It's noting really." He was trying to ignore his own injuries because I was there and hurt probably ten times worse. Hey I'm a dick but I'm not heartless.

"Is it bad?"

"No. Just a couple deep parts along my shoulder blades where there's no bone. That… Jackal thing knew where to dig its nails."

"Jackal… fuck." I shivered at the name. Hearing Arthur talk about it made it seem real. Sickly real.

"Yeah."

"It hurt?"

"It's uncomfortable. Doesn't hurt so much but it's annoying to try and lay down or against anything. Don't' want to rip them out."

"They'll heal quick enough."

More silence. I was thankful for that actually because I was finally starting to get somewhat comfortable and sleepy and so was Arthur from the looks of it. Bobby moved from laying horizontal to vertical along my legs so I could stretch a bit more and not worry about kicking the little bugger.

"Want me to move him?" Arthur asked, regarding Bobby.

"Nah. He's fine." I shut the TV off, turned my head away from the hospital hallway light and closed my eyes. I wanted to start sleeping immediately because if I didn't, I'd be subject to images of what happened. I may have hunted those ghosts and seen all of their most horrible acts, but they still scared the shit out of me. I opened my eyes again before thinking about that. No, I'm gonna sleep and not think of a damn thing. I rolled my head over to the other side and saw Arthur sleeping. He seemed peaceful enough and that calmed down and felt safe. I had lots of people here so I was completely safe and it felt great to be completely safe for the first time in a long time. I liked this feeling… being around people who cared enough to stay in my room while I healed. Yeah… this is pretty cool.

----------------------

Author's Note: As of now, I don't think there is any slash to be made between Dennis and Arthur. At the moment, I'm considering it more of a fatherly friendship. But again, this is subject to change depending on the reaction of the readers. I still don't know. The main plot of the story is just life after the big glass house and how to keep moving. I hope everyone likes it though! This was really different for me and it was fun to write. I like taking on the personality of other characters, especially one like Dennis who is still pretty vague but also very complex at the same time. Fleshing out his character will be awesome. But also showing more of Arthur, Kathy and Bobby will be fun too since they also have a great deal of character development to be had as well. Next chapter will be out in a few days.


	2. Time's Leftover into Time's Graveyard

Chapter 2

Time's Leftover into Time's Graveyard

I spent four days in the hospital and was discharged after walking around the hospital floors without consent. I got bored, what can I say? The Kriticos family left after day three, saying they would be back when I had to be discharged. Arthur went back to work, the kids went to school, and their caretaker Maggie left just as she had promised. I think she was over-reacting personally but some people have breaking points and hers was probably when the house exploded in her face. Yeah that's enough for anyone to flip out, anyone who wasn't used to that kind of shit I guess. I wonder if Arthur is gonna find a new nanny.

_Yeah, you._ Yeah I couldn't help but remember my flashes and ok, maybe me being a nanny was funny but if my vision was right, that very well could happen. I'm ok with a broom and I haven't poisoned anyone yet with my cooking so who knows? Right now, I had other important things to worry about.

Those things being me sitting outside the hospital with a bag of my cut up clothes in the grossest outfit available. Generic t-shirt and sweat pants. God I would kill myself right now if I hadn't already evaded that once this week; I'd feel bad wasting good medicine and care if I ended it all. Really though, this was a bit much. If they hadn't chopped through my clothes I could at least leave alive and in style but at this point, I guess alive is the best alternative there is. The nurse had told me that they called Arthur from work since that was the direction he left them upon his leave yesterday. I only had to wait a little while and before too long, Arthur pulled up in that piece of shit station wagon and I was all too happy to see him. Yeah I was a little embarrassed to be seen in my current outfit and the fact that I was just discharged from the hospital didn't seem to register. People who come out of the hospital always look like shit.

"Hey, get in. We'll go get lunch," said Arthur with a smile. Food that wasn't hospital prepared sounded great and I think I could go for just about anything at that point. McDonalds sounded like a five star idea even if it was gross. I got into the front seat and tried to put on my seatbelt; something hard to do I learned with only one working hand and one working shoulder. I gotta say though, I was grateful that Arthur didn't ask to help me. Pride ya know. I don't have much of it but the little I have left didn't need to be assaulted.

We wound up in a café about ten minutes away from the hospital. Sandwich and soup, pumpkin spice latte and a cookie because I was a good boy in the doctor's office. This all rounded up to ten bucks sans tip. Jeeze.

"How you feeling?"

"Better," I started, " now that I'm out of that place. I need to go to my place though. This whole bum look is getting to me."

"I can take you after you eat. Eat as much as you want, lunch is on me," said Arthur with a huge smile coming from a man who had just been exploited a few days ago by an evil relative and ghost monsters. I gave him a look of curiosity and annoyance; quit babying me man. I might be dressed like a bum but I still had my wallet and that wallet still had a twenty in it, even if that was the last of my cash. Arthur whom I just noticed was all teacherly and dressed like a.. well teacher, pulled up a briefcase and sat it on the table close to my lunch. I pulled it away as he opened the case and exhuming a few papers. It's hard not to be rude and nosey but that was ended when he explained them to me.

"After the police cleaned up the mess Cyrus made, they found the papers the lawyer had. Everything was still in order and the house and its property is still technically mine. Even though Cyrus had faked his death, his real death sealed this. I have the rights to everything on the property, including all the artifacts and the area itself. Which means… if I do this right, I could make enough money from this to finally fix everything that was lost in the fire." I gave Arthur a look he read and he fixed my fear.

"No don't worry I won't be going back there. But I'll get someone else to go there and gather up the valuables and we can auction off what we don't want. I just don't know what to do about the property itself." Now I might have been rude because he didn't out rightly ask me my opinion on the subject but as sound council in this matter, I made it my business to add my two cents and keep my big fucking mouth moving.

"I would tear the place down and sell the property. Sell it to someone who won't inhabit it. Sell it to someone who needs the land for anything but a home. Just wash your hands of it." I hid myself behind my latte because I couldn't take on eyes that would think of me a bastard for being so forward. Arthur seemed to consider the idea and as he leaned back in his chair, he gave me a look that brought down my cup. I didn't have to be ashamed for my statement.

"I think that would be the best idea. I've gotten appraisals for the land. I'm amazed at how fast people work when land and money are involved. When this all happens, I'm taking my family and getting out of that apartment and buying a house. I don't care if there's money left over or anything, I just want them to have a new home." Ok, I won't lie. I felt envious, pissed, and a little jealous. The money Cyrus owed me was a check never to be cashed because it was never in writing and the only person who could allow me such a payment was Arthur and I'm not gonna take away his wish. It was a noble wish and you can't hate a man for that. All I would have done with my share was pay off bills, buy more clothes, and replenish my tranquilizer bottle for the future. Lunch lost its taste and I felt a little bit of drama-queen coming on.

"Think you could take me to my apartment now? I want to put on some real clothes." I didn't look at him. I didn't want to.

"Are you still hungry?"

"No." I was starving.

"Ok… let me go pay the bill and…" he stood and I stood. He paid, I went to his car and waited. I had eaten all my food but I was still wanting more but I'd buy my own damn food if I needed it. Eventually Arthur returned and we drove in a chilled silence, my face to the window and my hand rubbing the stub of my wrist. It was starting to hurt and I hadn't picked up my prescription yet and all my tranquilizers had gone bye-bye when the paramedics frisked me of my clothes and possessions. I was running on empty.

You could say my place was like a British flat; dingy and cool at the same time. No doors but an elevator to my room that was open and lacked any rooms save for the bathroom. A true studio worthy of a bohemian artist or a poet, not for a ghost hunting druggie like me. It was cheap so who am I to bitch about atmosphere? The first problem I noticed was that there were several boxes in the parking lot under the patio cover where my designated parking spot was. Many had Room 6 written with a Sharpie on the side and some had been plundered through. And of course, none of it was really salvageable. I think my face gave me away because Arthur reached to touch my shoulder in apology but I was out of the car before that could happen. It started to rain somewhere between the drive.

With my good hand, I rummaged through the boxes and found that of the six there, only three had anything worth while left. My TV, DVD player, and CD player were gone; either sold, stolen, or used as a means of payment for my past due rent. Ok. Fine whatever, material only. Two of my boxes were clothes and I was grateful for that because my clothing was my life. I know I had more than this but if I could make due with just a few articles, I can always compensate for what was lost. The last box was more important. This box was always there for just an emergency like this because I never kept my journals out in the open. I figured if I ever got thrown out on my ass and if people had to go through my stuff, my journals wouldn't ever be of any value to anyone but myself and in this case, I was totally right. They were safe and I was relieved. Arthur, however, was curious.

"What happened?"

"Haven't paid my rent in a while. Dear old Uncle Cyrus was supposed to pay me a few days ago so I could pay my rent. He didn't. I think you can gather the rest," I said while lifting up the smallest box with my good arm and balancing it in my other. I don't know what made me do it but I walked over to Arthur's car and sat on the hood, waiting for him to open either the door or the trunk so I could get my shit out of the rain. He got the hint, grabbed another box, and popped the trunk. Three boxes in the trunk and some memories left behind, Arthur drove and I assumed he was driving me to his place because the homeless shelter was the opposite direction.

"You're staying with us for a few days anyway."

"Heh, yeah I guess this just makes it impossible for me to escape that huh?" I tried to laugh in light of my situation. I've been through worse, I can deal with this. But I still felt oddly screwed through all of this and even though divine retribution had its way of showing itself, I thought this was a bit much. I mean ok, I trapped souls. I fucking helped bring along an almost apocalypse and I probably helped in a few deaths. But I'm a freak of nature with a missing hand and no money. How much more do I have to suffer before I'm considered good in the eyes of whomever? Dramatic.

"How much did Cyrus owe you Dennis?"

"More than your little checkbook can handle." Spiteful.

"I'm serious."

"So am I," I shuddered a sigh and felt cold. Arthur had a jacket on and the heater in the car wasn't on his mind, "about fifteen grand." I probably have no right bitching over fifteen grand when I know people with credit card debt more than that but to me, that was rent and food for a few months. And fucking Cyrus said he'd pay me more if this worked out in his favor so who knows how much more he was planning. I'm gullible like that because now that I think about it, I doubt Cyrus was ever planning on paying me in the first place. Some judge of character I turned out to be.

"If," Arthur started and got my attention back from my pity, "I sell everything I'm planning on and sell the property, would you accept money from me?"

"No."

"Why not?" Why not indeed Dennis? You're kind of stupid like that buddy. Maybe I was tired of Kriticos promises and though Arthur was nothing like Cyrus, I didn't trust maybes. That or I didn't want to just be paid off and sent away. That's happened a few too many times in my life already.

"I don't want your money Arthur. All I need is a place to live and food, money doesn't have much meaning to me. And I don't want to take away from your plans." My pathetic meter went up a little there but so did my pity meter. I'm just wracking in all the points in this game of life. Maybe I was better off with the Breaker.

"My plans don't need much either," Arthur parked suddenly and I was brought from my trance, "Ok. Stay with us until you feel you can get on your feet. Stay here with us in the apartment and stay with us when we move to the house, if and when I find one."

"I said I don't want to bother you and fuck up your plans and-"

"You saved my life and the lives of my children. You're getting screwed over by things beyond your control. I don't have much right now but I can at least offer you the little I have." He was staring at me sincerely and I hated it. He had eyes that could make you feel safe and I hated that too. I don't want to be around when those eyes accidentally touch me again and I have to see through them again. I hate seeing people's lives and hidden secrets because no matter how good the person was, I always saw their deepest horrors and Arthur was one of those people whose horrors could stay hidden for all I cared. He was too good to be tainted.

But I needed a home. And I needed my prescription. And, most of all, I needed people. I scratched my head then rubbed my eyes. I wished my glasses weren't broken; I could really use them. They hide emotions better than I can.

"Ok." I couldn't manage much else. Arthur reached out to pat my arm then stopped. He didn't have to stop, I would have been ok with a small flash. Contact was never made and I got out of the car with the belongings I could hold while Arthur grabbed the rest. He was excited it seemed because as we walked from the parking lot to the building, he began speaking in a hurry.

"We'll get you settled in and I'll start dinner. Or we could just order out. That might be better, surprise the kids when they get home with food and the news. We've got a fold out couch for when Maggie would stay over and help out so you can sleep on that, at least until we figure things out. If you stay longer, we can move Bobby in with Kathy so you can have your own room." His drabble was like talking to a wife about some amazingly new and interesting thing and I was fine listening to it since it regarded me. Ego, I know. He startled me a bit because he wasn't angry at altering his life for me. Most people whose couches I've slept on never stopped with the bitching so I took this graciously and tried to stay quiet while he continued on.

"And when we move, we'll get a four bedroom house, just like our old one."

"How long are you thinking I'm gonna stay with you Arthur? I wasn't planning on moving in."

"Huh? Oh. I guess we'll come to that when it's appropriate. This one," he said, standing in front of his door. He held the boxes with his chest and the door itself and unlocked it with his free hand. The door swung open and he grabbed my box again but nothing was damaged. I entered and looked at the cold, small apartment. My place was bigger than this and he's housing three, no, four people?! Arthur sat my stuff down next to the couch and I sat, the couch being very comfortable and very big. It smelled like wood fire smoke even though there was no fireplace to be seen.

"Mind if I change?" Arthur got the hint. I just wanted a moment to be alone. He left for his room and I sat there on the couch wondering what all this was. First thing's first, I wanted new clothes. Ripping open one of my boxes I found a pair of jeans and a sweater and changed from my hospital garments to something in better taste. A change of clothes can alter a person's disposition greatly and when I stood in search of Arthur, I felt great in spite of all this weird shit. I peeked at the personal space I was occupying and found information here and there about their lives. Pictures, A+ papers, local obituaries, and a few un-graded math tests sitting around. Hey these were my future dwellings, I have a right to be a snoop.

"Dad! We're home and-" I spun around, seeing Kathy and Bobby entering the apartment with happy eyes. I smiled in response to their infection and part of me wondered if this would be reoccurring. I can dig this. Their happiness shifted to shyness but I was still grinning like a fool. Arthur appeared behind me and slid beside without touching me. He went to his kids and hugged both of them. It was one of those hugs you could tell happened once in a while, not every day but not infrequent enough to be forced. He was genuinely happy and he excitedly rambled off the same information he had said to me earlier.

"We don't have to go there right?" asked Kathy.

"No, I'm going to have someone go for us. Just think, by the end of the month, we could be living in a new house." Bobby dropped his bag and scooter in the doorway and laughed.

"I won't get in trouble for leaving my stuff all over anymore!"

"Well I don't know about that. And guys, I want both of you to be on your best behavior. Dennis is going to stay with us awhile so no being terrors, got it?" Arthur said with a hard to believe stern attitude. Kathy peeked past her father at me and Bobby approached me.

"Why?" asked the young little genius. I guess that was sort of a good question because I wasn't anything before a few nights ago and now I'm apparently good enough to be living and leaching off them. Suddenly I felt guilty, unneeded.

"He's staying until he feels better."

"And I'm gonna help out. I mean," I started before I knew what I was saying, " since your maid left. You guys are messy and Arthur needs help and I know to cook. So…" I lost what I was going for. But the effect was achieved because the kids grumbled and Arthur laughed. Kathy put her hand on her hip and smirked.

"Wow is this some way of telling me that my cooking is REALLY bad Dad?"

"What?! No no!" Haha I put Arthur in the dog house.

Enough of boring domestic hostility, let's skip a few hours to when things are interesting. Chinese take out is some of the best food a person can eat because when you order enough for your family, they send you enough for three. Kathy and I had a contest of who could eat the most peppers from the General Tsoa's chicken and of course I lost because I'm a pussy and she did have some awesome Italian blood in her. Stereotyping for the goal. I got through three, she had about seven. Fun food times aside, the evening ended with bed times and me chilling on the couch and going through my journals in the peace and quiet of the apartment. The TV was playing and that too was soothing. I told Arthur I would do anything he asked if I could have one condition; the TV must play at night. No matter how old I got, I have a fear of silence. At one time in my life, I lived next to a cemetery and yeah, you can only begin to imagine how shitty that was for me. Every time a funeral was held, boom! I'd get ghost central in my room. Most of the time they'd just show up for a few minutes then leave but often it was loud enough for me to wake up. So to combat this, I would keep my TV on all night to disguise the noise. It worked surprisingly well and I got used to the sound, it being my white noise. Now you know the rest of the back story.

So, sitting on the folded out bed couch and hanging with my journals. That's back up to speed. It was around midnight and I was up, writing down what I usually wrote in these pages, when I heard some footsteps in the kitchen. Reflex made me hide my journal under my pillow but I calmed down when Arthur came out, pajama clad and drowsy. I wondered if the sound from the TV was keeping him up but he didn't say anything. Actually all he did was sit down next to me with a Coke in his hand and a pretty exhausted look on his face.

"I bothering ya?" I asked. He took a moment to acknowledge me then shook his head. I turned a little because my shoulder was in a lot of pain but I tried not to show it. Still hadn't filled out my prescription and I should probably do that sooner than later. I'll ask Arthur to do it tomorrow.

"I haven't been sleeping well since we came back home."

"Nightmares?"

"Something like that."

"Yeah. I had my first phantom pain not too long ago. Doctors said it wouldn't take too long."

"What's that?" I was sort of surprised he wouldn't know what a phantom pain was, he seemed like an educated kind of guy but maybe he was just making conversation. Sure, I'll humor him.

"It's when I feel my hand even though it's not there. It feels like when your foot falls asleep after you sit on it too long and then you try to move and it starts stinging."

"I'm sorry."

"Story exchange. What was your nightmare like?" Ok, I was really awake and I wanted company and Arthur didn't seem to be sleeping soon so why not?

"Ah… I don't know. Just keep seeing the house and everything inside it. Keep seeing the kids getting hurt. Keep seeing Jean." He must have had a lot built up inside. I'm psychic to a point but it didn't take no crystal ball or Ouija board to see that this guy wanted nothing more than to vent out some of this shit that's been accumulating on his shoulders over the past year. I don't think I'm the best one for that though but I can at least listen. I'm good like that. But then again, part of me had a lot to say too and no one else felt it necessary to talk to me or listen about my ghosts, my issues, my painful mind fucks. We'll see how this swings.

"That house was one piece of fuckery wasn't it? When I was poking around it when you guys arrived, I nearly pissed myself at how freaky it was. Then the insides… shit." Little tid-bit about me, I curse a lot. It's a form of linguistics I like to think adds color to the American language. Sue me.

"Everything can be fixed though, you know? I get scared about the house, I just look around and see that I'm here in the apartment again. I worry about my kids, I can walk six feet to their rooms and see them. I don't know what to do about… about Jean. I can't just open my eyes and see her." I thought that's what he was going about. You can't just ignore your wife's ghost after something like that, not after some guys like me and Cyrus came and abducted her poor spirit for our own sick gain. I wondered if it would work, if it would cause any kind of solace in him to even try but what else could I offer? People usually can only offer words, empty ones at that, regarding issues like that but I could maybe catch a glimpse of something that I can interpret as comfort for him.

"Can I?" I asked, lifting my hand toward his shoulder. He looked at me hesitantly, questioning my methods and what exactly I was leaning at but I said fuck it and grabbed his shoulder anyway. He'll forgive me later.

Fucking flashes! Quit moving so fast that I can't see… see this house they had. Huge white one, gorgeous. Jean was a really beautiful woman in a kind of old fashioned sense, reminded me of my mom but a lot more stable. The kids were cute when they were younger and they just seemed like such a group of normal people. That's all. Just your normal average neighbors who'd always be there to help you. Especially Arthur. I didn't want to delve too deeply into that area because again, don't want to find dirty secrets when I didn't want them. But what was I expecting to find about Jean now? It was mostly glimpse and images of times with her, the best times you know? Times I didn't have any right peering on. Dates, wedding, honeymoon, births and funerals. Oh… funerals. Her funeral was beautiful as funerals go, white flowers contrasted by black garments. Arthur and the kids… god guys I'm sorry don't be so sad. But there she was and there I would be to snatch her spirit and stuff it into a box like some sort of trash. I'm a sick fucking bastard.

Maybe I needed to see this. I never took a moment to see the ghosts I caught for the humans they were but most of the time, they weren't people to really respect. Not like Jean here. Not a mother of two, wife and dancer, not a human being who had so much more of a reason to be on earth than I ever would. I occupied space that she should have filled.

The last thing I saw before stepping out was something comforting and something that would help Arthur's sleepless nights. It was something I didn't see because I wasn't conscious for it but I watched through Arthur's eyes now and I envied him. Jean was standing before her family and he was able to see her one last time, something most people would kill for. And she was beautiful and happy and as she dissipated, I knew that as the assent to the next plain, whatever it may be. But it wasn't painful, it wasn't evil, and it wasn't anywhere to be scared of. Don't worry Arthur, she's fine.

"What?" I must have said that out loud for when I lifted my head from Arthur's shoulder, embarrassed that I had spit dripping from the side of my mouth and sweat congregated in every crevice of my face. I breathed a few haggard breaths and grabbed Arthur's Coke from his hand, dying for something wet. He didn't mind and I downed it completely.

"She's fine… I've seen that before. When she faded like that, it means she left this place. She's where she's supposed to be and by the smile she had, it's a good place." I wasn't sugar coating, I'm not that kind of guy. But when I saw things like this, I could tell it as I saw it and that was usually enough. Trust me, I've told people that their relatives were Hell bound and they only laughed in my face and said I was a prick. But Jean… nah if there was a Heaven, I think she'd be escorted there nicely.

Arthur's eyes were unsure how to take this news but I did what I could and I was aching from it. I wanted to sleep so badly now since from head to toe I felt like I'd been ran over a few times. Grabbing a blanket and wrapping up in it, I fell to my side and onto Arthur. I hadn't meant to pin him but Jesus that was one of those flashes that take so much out of me that I can't function anymore. My skin didn't touch any part of Arthur thanks to the blanket I cocooned myself in and within minutes I was asleep. No more flashes tonight please, I've signed out.

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Author's Note: This chapter came a lot fast than I anticipated, probably because it's really dialogue heavy and partly because I threw out my back and I'm bed bound. I have a laptop so I can sit it on my lap without much pain. The next chapter will be in a few days I assure you and it will have more of a plot I promise. Right now I'm establishing character interactions, a little more character developement and setting up the scene. I've also realized, as per Taisia Kuno fashion, this is going to be a rather long story. I always tend to write long stories and I think this one won't be any exception.


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